


Siren's Song

by PandaMega



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Siren, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaMega/pseuds/PandaMega
Summary: Zoro/Sanji. AU. They say sirens are souls lost to the sea who wish to damn sailors to the same fate.





	Siren's Song

**Author's Note:**

> For ZoSan Week on Tumblr, Day 4  
> Prompt - Scars
> 
> So this is very very abstractly related to scars, in my head it made more sense then I started writing it, and, well, here we are! I hope you enjoy this little thing, I had quite a bit of fun with it. I’d love any feedback of any kind! Take a gander at my other fics if you get a chance! For those following my other WIPs, I’m sorry I’m taking so long to update! Honestly my seasonal depression has been hitting me hard, I just can’t seem to get enough sleep and I’m constantly tired. Anyone else dealing with this? I’m seeing some doctors for the insomnia/hypersomnia but it’s a slow process. But enough about that!

To say it was a song wouldn’t do it justice.

The sound was surreal. It wasn’t the kind of music any mortal voice could produce; it was a feeling. It was a thought that resonated in the mind, it was electricity pulsing through the veins, it was a touch beneath the fingertips, it was a pain felt deep in the heart.

It was a song.

_It was the sea itself._

It was being drowned, fully submerged from head to toe, caught in a whirlpool and sinking ever further into the depths towards the source, towards the lips from which this song was sung.

And Zoro was lost to the sea.

_They say beware the Siren’s song.  
_ _The madness of the soul,  
_ _Bewitching sound, a sailors curse,  
_ _Ensnares you in its woe.  
_ _Beware the mournful aching tune that echoes from the depths,  
_ _Beware the lonesome cry that beckons sailors to their deaths._

He fell into the waves willingly.  
But,  
He didn’t drown.

This one swam across the waves towards his cursed voice.  
This one, swam with fervent strength as if he had a choice.  
This one, battered by the sea, lungs awash with foam,  
plunged into the icy depths and made it to the stones.  
This one dragged his mortal frame on bronzed arms from the sea.  
This one climbed the rocky coast  
 _And made it back to me._  

* * *

They say sirens are lost souls.

Lonely spirits swept away by the sea, cursed forever to sing a mournful song, cursing men to their fate.

Sanji and the sea were synonymous.

He had lived on the sea, loved the sea with a vastness akin to the depths of the waters itself. He lost everything to the sea and finally himself. He never found what he was looking for but bore the sea no scorn. And in return the sea had claimed him.

The water’s gift to him was a voice so sweet and sad that it would draw others to their deaths.

The water’s gift to him was an eternity of loneliness.

The sea was a cruel and mysterious mistress whose intentions were beyond understanding, but Sanji loved her nonetheless.

Swept from sea to sea with nothing but a voice which no longer spoke in words but vibrated only in a song of ruin, the Lost Soul could do naught but sing despite the tragedy of the sound. The pain in his heart was so aching that he sang each night despite himself, a cry so somber it damned men to their deaths, making his heart ache deeper. Yet he still sang in hopes that his lonesome exile would end.

Countless men flung themselves from their decks at Sanji’s shores, only to be swept away by merciless waves, the gaping maw of the sea never quenched of its thirst for souls.

And Sanji was cursed to an eternity of feeding the hungry waters with his cruel song. Yet he still sung.

He still sung, and watched men fall one by one.

Except this one.

Because this one didn’t drown.

This one climbed above the waves and reached the rocky coast,  
dragged himself on shaking limbs, the one he wanted most.  
This one fell into his lap and lay there with a sigh.  
This one, wet and weary soul,  
 _this one didn’t die._  

For the first time in an eternity the perfect song faltered and his voice cracked. The wet salt of the sea sprung from his eyes stinging hot on his cold unliving cheeks. A trembling hand reached out and touched for the first time in an eternity the warmth of life at his fingertips. His lonesome exile had come to an end.


End file.
